


Curses and Cherry Blossoms

by TwoAmusements



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Theatre, Fluff, Gratuitous F Bombs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:41:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23804791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwoAmusements/pseuds/TwoAmusements
Summary: Steve is a set designer with a dream job and a problem... he has it bad for the stage manager. Will they or won't they? Yes they will, but life is about the journey anyways.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 4
Kudos: 37





	Curses and Cherry Blossoms

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fanfiction that I've written since 2009, so forgive me, specifically for the fanfiction written in 2009. This was beta'd by LittleOblivion, she is magic and if you like angsty queer fanfiction check her out here and on fanfiction.net. Happy shipping.

“Fuck!”

The curse rang throughout the entirety of the theatre and while it might have made Steve flinch three months ago when he started his job as the head set designer, now he didn’t even look up from his current project, too wrapped up in painting the shadows on the castle wall to pay the cursing any heed.

“Fuck”

The second expletive rang as clearly as the first one, but with significantly less passion and again Steve continued to paint as though he hadn’t heard anything. He had learned the stage manager of the Shield Theatre had a mouth the minute after meeting him. It would have been the first minute, but Steve had been so awestruck by the man he couldn’t process the words coming out of his mouth, most of which had been “fuck” or some other derivation of it.

“Fuck”

The third one was the least booming of all and was filled with something that Steve couldn’t quite identify. If he had to guess it would be something akin to fear, but fear was a human emotion and James Buchanan Barnes was not human. Steve had met his fair share of difficult temperaments over his years working in theatre, but none quite equaled the force of nature that was James Barnes, equal parts distain and disinterest covered in a hard shell of cynicism made Barnes the exact type of person Steve hated to be around. At least, that’s what Steve kept telling himself, because although he was irascible, cold, and frequently outright rude, Barnes was also the most beautiful man he’d ever met. Tall, not as tall as him of course, with a strong frame, long dark hair, and the most piercing blue eyes known to humanity, he was exactly Steve’s type, not that Steve had really noticed or ever imagined what it would be like to be roughly shoved up against the wall by those strong, aggravatingly perfect hands. He’d definitely never pictured Barnes turning him around and putting that foul mouth to work against his…

“Rogers”

This time Steve flew into the air. He had been so deep in thought that he hadn’t noticed the very man he’d been daydreaming about had walked out on stage where he was hard at work.

“Jesus man, time to switch to decaf.”

 _This coming from the man whose blood must be 85% Redbull_ Steve thought, but instead he replied with a simple “Didn’t hear you coming” and kicked the ground with the petulant air of someone who has been cut off from a personal fantasy.

“I just got off the phone with Hill.”

 _Fuck_ , Steve thought wryly. By Hill, Barnes was referencing Maria Hill, personal assistant to the legendary Nick Fury, whose skill as a director almost, almost made up for how incredibly difficult he was to work with for the technicians.

“What’s the damage? Has he decided to remove the color blue from the show? Because Nat will definitely kill someone if she has to redesign the lighting plot one more time before the actors begin rehearsing.” Nat had already presented six lighting plots, which was approximately seven more than she would normally share with the creative team.

“I’m afraid it’s worse than that.” Barnes said with a grimace looking down at his scuffed boots. “Fury has decided he wants to change the setting. He said ‘too many people are expecting him to set _Romeo and Juliet_ in Feudal Japan,’ so now he wants to set it in America in the 1960s.”

Steve stared open mouthed. He had spent _weeks_ studying up on traditional Japanese culture. He had built beautiful scale models of pagodas. He had ruined one of his favorite shirts painting hundreds of pink cherry blossoms and now all of it had to be reworked to the 1960s. _Fuck!_ Steve thought bitterly as he calmly walked back towards his model of the balcony scene set, his beautiful Japanese garden, that was so carefully researched and designed to meet every single one of Fury’s many demands. Steve picked up the model, looking closely at its details, the cherry trees, the ornate archway at the entrance, the shrine to the gods in the back corner, and then very deliberately Steve hurled it against the theater wall with a quick “Fuck.” Steve may not have the same pitching arm he did back when he played baseball in high school, but he was no slouch, and the model hit the wall at a strong speed shattering on impact with a highly rewarding crunch.

Steve stood there a moment regaining control of himself when he heard a peculiar noise off to the side. That’s when he remembered Barnes, still standing there. In his brief spell of rage Steve had completely forgotten he was there. _Fuck_ Steve thought again, feeling some anxiety settle in over his body. His boss had just seen him throw a temper tantrum and while Barnes may have a sharp tongue and a tendency to tell people to ‘go screw themselves’ he was also extremely professional and had little patience for people who acted otherwise. Steve stood there staring at him and just as he was gearing himself up to apologize for his outburst, he heard that same strange noise coming from Barnes. A raspy sound that came from deep in his throat, only this time it kept going and built up into a sound that Steve realized was laughter.

As Barnes began to bark out his laughter Steve stood there unsure of how to proceed. He had never heard the stage manager laugh before, and had only seen him smile once before, a quick grimace at Natasha for bringing him an extra redbull during a particularly unpleasant cue to cue. Barnes’ laugh sounded a little out of practice and was raspy from the endless stream of menthol cigarettes, but Steve was quickly coming to realization that he would move heaven and earth if he could get the man to laugh like that ever again. His face had gone from gorgeous to ridiculously gorgeous, Steve thought, his blue eyes were flashing, and his white teeth were shining through his crooked smile.

“Damn Rogers, I didn’t think you had that in you.” Barnes said when he had regained enough self-composure to form coherent words blue eyes still dancing with mirth.

“Didn’t have what in me?” Steve said still feeling unsure of what was transpiring before him. Even as the unbidden thought _I wish I had you in me_ came bubbling to the surface of his brain.

“That kind of fire. I figured you were too much of a fuckin’ goody-two shoes to get pissed off like that. You’ve been here three months and in that time you’ve been nothing but sunshine and rainbows. Every fucking day.”

“I usually try to keep from losing temper in front of coworkers. I like to maintain some professionalism, James.” Steve said defensively, still confused by the look in Barnes’ face.

“Bucky.”

“What?”

“Bucky, my friends call me Bucky.”

“Oh” Steve said and then found himself unable to stop the next question from popping out of his mouth.

“Are we friends?”

“I think it’s in your best interest for me to be your friend right now.” Bucky said his annoying eye twinkle remaining firmly in place

“Why?”

“Because you are about to have to strike this whole fucking set and I am the only other person in the building right now.” As he spoke Bucky strode over to the cherry blossom trees Steve had spent the last three days slaving over. “Is there any chance you can wiggle these in the show somewhere they’re so pretty.” There was that twinkle again. Steve was beginning to reach another breaking point, but with no other models in convenient arms reach he settled for crossing his arms defensively over his chest and walking over to wear Bucky had begun disassembling the yukimi-gata lantern Steve had built less than three hours ago. He opened his mouth to comment, closed it again when no sound came out, opened it one more time, gave up and walked over the bridge to start unscrewing the handrail picking up a drill on the way.

Time in silence each engrossed in their own dismantling, after an hour had passed Steve broke the silence, feeling oddly jittery in the dark-haired man’s presence.

“Thanks for helping me… you know… obliterate all my hard work.” It was a stupid thing to say, Steve knew it as he was saying it, but he wanted to hear Barnes’—Bucky’s voice again, hoping there might still be a hint of that velvety mirth he had heard earlier.

To his immense pleasure, Bucky lets out a soft throaty chuckle.

“Well Steve, if it’ll bring you joy, I’ll help you crush your dreams any time.” Steve felt all the air escape his body and for a moment he worried he was having an asthma attack, but quickly realized he was holding his breath for some unknown reason, well maybe not so unknown. _Fuck_ , he thought regretting that he couldn’t think up anything clever to say in response to Bucky, so they continued on in silence for a time.

“Fuck!” Steve was shaken from thoughts that had _absolutely nothing_ to do with Bucky’s laugh by a loud expletive.

“What’s wrong Buck?” He hadn’t meant to say that, he been invited to call him Bucky and the shorted version had just slipped out. If Bucky noticed he gave no indication, although Steve thought his back had tensed momentarily.

“I dropped a screw and now I can’t find the damn thing.” As Bucky spoke, he dropped to his hands and knees and began to crawl around the stage.

“Hang on, I’ll help you look. This happens all the time.” Steve said, joining Bucky on the stage floor. The two crawled around on the stage for a minute or two before Steve spotted the stray screw hiding in the shadow of the cherry tree. Just as he reached out to grab it however, another hand also took hold of the silver runaway, resulting in Bucky and Steve awkwardly holding hands with the screw in between their palms. Steve felt his whole-body crackle with a kind of electricity he’d never felt before, not even with Thor, the Scandinavian message therapist he’d met on vacation and with whom he had the most mind-blowing sex of his life. It took all his strength to pull his eyes away from their hands and look Bucky in the eye, afraid of what he might see.

Bucky had a strange look on his face, one that felt vaguely wolfish to Steve. _Fuck_ , Steve thought and quickly began to retract his hand and stand up in order to get some distance between them before Bucky punched him for invading his personal space. However, as he withdrew his hand, he felt a slight tug from Bucky, keeping it there. The shorter man stood slowly never breaking eye contact all the while. The energy between the two crackled as Bucky began to lean into Steve, stretching up ever so faintly onto his toes in order to reach even as Steve lowered his head towards him.

Their lips collided and Steve felt the electricity crackle even stronger as he sank deeper into Bucky’s lips, wrapping one hand around his neck and another around his waist as Bucky did the same to him. Steve couldn’t help but notice how good Bucky’s lips tasted, like the best dessert he’d ever dreamed up with underlying minty flavor from his cigarettes. Although he never wanted this kiss to end when he felt Bucky begin to pull away, he relaxed his grip on his neck and pulled back as well. _He’s going to say that was a mistake_ Steve said preparing for the rejection, hoping that if he knew it was coming, he could avoid the embarrassment of crying in front of him.

He looked at Bucky expecting to see his trademark scowl, but was instead confronted with a Bucky he had never seen before, his eyes were wide, even a little cross eyed, and he had his bottom lip caught between his teeth in a way that was at once charmingly youthful and incredibly sexual. Steve stood there waiting for Bucky to say something for what felt like an eternity.

“Fuck”

Steve had heard Bucky use that word in many ways before, but never like this. Never low and breathless with his face flushed, making his eyes even bluer and teeth even whiter. When it became clear that Bucky wasn’t going to say anything else Steve began searching for something to say, but was distracted by a tug on his shirt, Bucky’s hand had crept up and grabbed a fist full right at the center of chest. Before he could compute what that meant Bucky had pulled him in close mouth seeking out mouth, when their lips met again the same electricity crackled through his body and this time Steve knew Bucky felt it too. Moaning into his mouth as their kiss deepened there was only one word that came to Steve’s foggy mind.

_Fuck._


End file.
